Just Keep Your Eyes On Me
by FalseHope
Summary: John and Jane have survived Michael's trial, overcome the machinations of Richard Clayton, and finally seem on the verge of being able to explore their burgeoning relationship. But new challenges arise to disrupt their recently discovered happiness, pushing them to the brink as they fight to stay together or be torn apart by old enemies. Continues instantly after the series finale.
1. Chapter 1

_Hi everyone - very long time, no see!_

 _I decided to try out NanoWrimo last year for the first time and actually managed to complete the 50,000 word target! At the time, I was struggling to think of my own story, so I ended up using one I knew pretty well already and had written about before - Tarzan! As I was writing it, the idea of posting it online was kind of a background thought since the show came and went over a decade ago and I was sure no-one would ever read now. However, I want to challenge myself by finishing this story off, as it turns out a 50,000 word limit wasn't enough for the story I wanted to tell!_

 _This is what I wanted from the open ending the series finished on. It's what I wanted to see in future episodes and character development. So if anyone out there has stumbled into this fandom again after such a long time, here's how I would have continued John and Jane's story._

 **Chapter 1**

The mid-morning sun blazed blindingly brightly as Jane left the court building and the last few months of tension behind her. Stepping out into the crisp, city air, she felt as if the weight that had been lifted off her shoulders was all that was keeping her tethered to the ground. The pure, unadulterated joy and sheer relief that was coursing through her veins was almost intoxicating. Even the fact that she was stood outside in the middle of November, barefoot, couldn't break the happiness blooming inside her chest.

Raising a hand to shade her eyes, she couldn't help taking a moment to pause and reflect on the verdict of the case that had been weighing her down for so long; Donald Ingram, the only witness to the initial event that caused so much trouble, had been excused and the charges against John Clayton had been dropped. Michael's case was finally closed and John was a free man once more.

"Jane," came a voice from behind her.

Jane beamed at the soft cadence and gentle accent. She turned on the spot and met eyes of pale blue surrounded by tanned, golden skin and long, tousled, blonde locks. The expression in his gaze was one of happy curiosity underlined by the half smile reaching out from the corner of his mouth. His previously smart ash green shirt was untucked and dishevelled. He was also barefoot, as usual. After mentioning the brand new shoes specially purchased for the trial were hurting his feet, Jane was inspired to take off her own pinching heels and leave the courtroom with him, savouring the feeling of being able to stretch her toes and the coolness of the tiles soothing her aches.

"John," she replied with a teasing smile.

John took a step closer to her, leaving little space between them. Instinctively, Jane reached a hand out to grasp his arm, running it down the corded muscle to his large, calloused hand and squeezing it gently. After noticing his aversion to being touched by the security guards inside the courtroom, she was pleasantly delighted when he replied with his own affectionate squeeze and relieved that the pressure of being surrounded by so many strangers hadn't affected him negatively. Though he'd walked among them many times in his wanderings throughout the city, never had so many people's focus been solely directed upon him.

"I'm so happy we finally finished this," Jane beamed up at him. John's smirk grew.

"Me too."

Her heart skipped a beat. How was it possible that even after knowing him for such a short space of time, yet having gone through so much together, that she could feel so flustered and exhilarated from just a simple smile?

"So..." Jane replied, trying to ignore the sudden heat rising in her cheeks. "How are we going to celebrate that you're no longer a wanted man? I don't suppose you had parties in the jungle, huh?"

John's brow furrowed in confusion. "Celebrate?"

"Yeah, John. Celebrate! We just got you off murder charges. We don't have to run or hide anymore. If that's not an occasion to celebrate, I don't know what is!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Jane noticed someone stomping down the Court House stairs, causing a commotion among the other people standing nearby. It was Gene, the small, balding cop who had taken an unsavoury fixation on John's involvement with Michael's death, believing that he had been the one to throw his friend off the roof despite the lack of any evidence to prove his theory. He was barging past court attendees, not caring if he hit them with his broad shoulders and ignoring their looks of outrage whilst grumbling loudly to himself. Jane felt John tense at her side.

As if he could feel her attention on him, Gene glanced up and met Jane's stare. His eyes suddenly panned down and a deep fury began to permeate his expression, flattening his lips and creasing his brow. Following his stare, Jane realised he had seen John's hand cupping hers. A sense of foreboding filled her stomach.

An unheard list of profanity spilled from his lips as heat rose to his cheeks and the fury built in his eyes. He began to head towards them.

"How could you? How could you do this to Mike, you bitch! He loved you, and this is how you repay him?" Spittle flew from his lips as he drew closer to them. "You killed him! You both killed him!"

John's earlier mood vanished as he stepped in front of Jane defensively, baring his teeth and preparing to fight the man who had beaten her only a few weeks ago after she had tried to help him escape the country. Though she was fully healed, she vividly remembered the searing pain of Gene's booted foot viciously connecting with her ribs over and over again before John arrived just in time to give him a taste of his own medicine. From the look of John's defensive position, it looked like he would happily do so again.

Suddenly, two burly security guards intercepted Gene, stopping him in his tracks. As he tried to push them out of his way to continue on his war path, the guards secured his arm behind his back and turned him back towards the Court House, away from John and Jane.

"You're gonna pay for this! Both of you! I swear it! This isn't over!" he bellowed, struggling and writhing against the security guard's firm grip. As the group reached the stairs leading back up to the court's entrance, Sam and Kathleen Clayton could be seen descending, all the while staring at Gene in a mixture of shock and surprise.

"Damn," Sam mused, shaking his head as he watched Gene finally vanish inside the building. Turning back to the couple, he began to lead John's aunt down to meet them.

Realising John was still furiously staring after Gene, Jane ran a hand down his arm once more, this time in relief.

"John. John, he's gone. Calm down, okay?" Jane murmured to him soothingly despite her shaking nerves.

It took a few moments, but the tension slowly melted away from John's posture. Taking one last glance in the direction Gene had gone, John finally turned to meet Jane's worried gaze. Anger ebbed from his features to be replaced with concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly.

Jane smiled tentatively. "Yeah, John. I'm fine."

He titled his head, golden locks brushing his neck, and frowned at her. He knew she was lying.

"You know what? Don't worry about him. He's all talk and no trousers," she joked lamely. "He can't touch you anymore."

John took a step closer, regaining the distance he'd lost at their interruption, and took her hand in his rougher one once more.

"Your voice..." John began, worriedly.

"Really John, I'm fine." Jane knew the words were lies on her lips, but couldn't stop herself from trying to ease his worry. She would deal with Gene on her own if she had to but she didn't want John anywhere near him again. Jane had a feeling the older man would get more than a few cuts and bruises if he made the mistake of angering John once more.

"Jane!"

Jane tore her focus from John's intense gaze to meet the eyes of her partner, Sam, as he and Kathleen finally met them on the sidewalk.

"Your boyfriend's murder charges have been dropped for five minutes and already he's causing a scene. Couldn't you save this till at least next week?" Sam smirked, handing her a black garment slung over his lower arm. "Here, thought you could use this. Don't say I never gave you anything."

Jane took the long, ebony coat that she had brought with her this morning and promptly forgotten in all the excitement of the not guilty verdict. "Thanks Sam. I don't know what I'd do without you," she smiled as she pulled it on, freeing her long hair from the back as she pulled it close around herself. She hadn't noticed just how cold she'd gotten.

"Going native, I see," smiled Kathleen as she quirked an eyebrow in amusement before dropping her eyes to Jane's bare feet.

Dropping her eyes to the ground, Jane chuckled awkwardly at the sudden attention and started to curl her toes as if to hide them from sight. She felt John's fingers slip into her palm. His expression was amused with a hint of lingering concern, but she felt eased by the gentle touch and the heat of his skin.

"So," Kathleen began, smoothly changing topic, "now that everything is finally cleared up and back to how it should be, I think a little celebration is in order. What do you say?"

Jane smiled as she glanced at John in amusement. "What did you have in mind, Ms Clayton?"

"Oh, please, I think we're past 'Ms Clayton' by now. Please call me Kathleen, both of you," she smiled at Jane and Sam. "As for the celebration, I'm not sure... How about a quiet dinner at our place? Just the four of us?"

"That sounds perfect... Kathleen," Jane replied, testing out the new name.

"What do you think John?" Kathleen asked curiously.

John smiled gently before turning to Jane and asking, "Can Nicki come?"

Momentarily surprised at the question, Jane chuckled, "I don't see why not. I'll see if she's free tonight."

He seemed pleased by her response as he squeezed her hand once more.

"How is seven o'clock for you both? I'll get our chef to whip up something special for us," Kathleen said, looking quite excited about the prospect of gathering all of John's friends together.

John was looking at Jane with undisguised anticipation. His silver-blue eyes were almost shimmering in the bright sunlight as he waited for her response.

"Sure," Jane smiled, "I'll be there."

"Well I wouldn't miss it for the world," Sam chimed in from beside her.

"Excellent," Kathleen beamed. A moment later, something caught her eye, forcing her expression into a more serious one.

"Kathleen?" Jane asked, turning in the direction of her gaze.

"Jane!" she said abruptly, forcing Jane to turn back to face her. "Mr Sullivan, I'm sorry, but I think I should probably get John back to the house now. There are some matters we need to discuss and I'm sure we'll need some time to prepare for tonight. We'll see you at seven?"

Confused by the sudden shift in conversation, but not wanting to take any more of her time, Jane replied, "Of course. Sam and I should get back to the station."

"Yeah, those cases aren't going to solve themselves," Sam smirked as he began to step away from the group. "I'll bring the car around the front, Jane."

Heading off, Sam left Jane with the two Claytons. She noticed that Kathleen was still tense, but as the older woman nodded to a man who had just pulled up on the curb driving a sleek, silver car, her attention was pulled back to John.

"You'll come?" he asked, still holding her hand gently with his own, "Tonight?"

A smile, pure and loving, spread across her lips.

"Of course, John. I'll see you at seven."

John squeezed her hand one final time. Combined with his intensely happy expression, Jane couldn't help feeling her heart skip a beat once more.

She could no longer deny the affection that she had grown to have for the man before her. It was stronger and far more powerful than anything she had ever felt for Michael. She knew John felt intensely for her in return, and it was impossible to miss his straightforward attempts at confessing his feelings; questioning her about whether she wanted him 'closer or father away', the amusement at her 'no touching' rules, and the many opportunities he took to touch her skin, kiss her hands or take in her scent. At first she had been overwhelmed by his attention and instantaneous fixation with her, and with Michael's death overshadowing every action she'd taken, love had been the last thing on her mind despite how her heart kept trying to tell her otherwise. But now that the case had been dismissed and John was no longer being hunted by the law for a crime he did not commit, maybe this was the time Jane could finally start to move on from Michael. Maybe she could start to consider her future beyond him.

Maybe it was with John.

"Come on, John," Kathleen called from the open door of the car before sliding into the back seat.

Taking one last lingering look at Jane, John slowly backed away towards his aunt, hand outstretched where it still grasped her own.

"Good bye," he murmured, involuntarily reminding her of the last time he had said those words at the air strip after their emotional farewell. But this separation was only temporary. She would see him later tonight and they could finally get on with their lives.

"Bye," she replied a little breathlessly. Their fingers finally drifted apart and she watched as John finally turned towards the car, slipping inside. She could see his face peering through the lightly tinted windows as the driver started the engine, pulled away from the curbing and slipped away into the city.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Sitting at her desk inside the police precinct that Jane considered her home away from home, she was surrounded by sounds and smells that centred her more than any list she could come up with to soothe her uneasy nerves. Coffee wafted from the small kitchen at the back, papers were being shuffled at a desk just behind her, phones rang without pause, keyboard keys clacked under heavy fingers. Even the variety of male and female voices tracking down leads and questioning suspects gave her a strange sense of order to the world. But right now, she wasn't sure any of that was enough.

Across from her own desk, Sam was placing paper case files filled with documents into a cardboard box.

Michael's box.

Due to the lack of evidence and any fresh leads since the case was begun months ago, Lieutenant Connor had finally admitted defeat and told Sam to shelve the case. But Jane felt conflicted.

Despite her earlier conviction that she was ready to move on with her life, seeing Sam storing the last documents regarding Michael's death into a box headed for an unsolved case storage cupboard made part of her feel horrible. The man she had so admired only months ago had been reduced to a pile of papers that were going to be shoved on a shelf, hopefully never to be seen for a very long time. And yet a part of her was also relieved to finally be rid of the worries and stress of trying to acquit John, rescue Donald Ingram from Richard Clayton's clutches and stop feeling guilty about Michael's senseless death. It should never have happened. But there was nothing to be done about it now. She couldn't change the past, and even if she could, would she really want to? Would giving up the excitement and the thrill of being around John for a life of living by the rules with a man she didn't truly love really have been worth it?

"Hey."

Jane met Sam's eyes as he stared at her across their partnered desks, his dark eyes focused solely on her.

"You alright in there?" he asked kindly.

All she could do was close her eyes, shake her head and smile half-heartedly at her partner, too conflicted to answer.

"I don't know Sam. On the one hand I'm relieved we got all of this sorted out, but on the other..." she trailed off.

"I know what you mean," he replied. "He was my friend too, even if he made some stupid-ass decisions. At least we can put him to rest now." Picking up the lid, Sam placed it on top of the box, sealing its contents and the past inside.

Jane took one last look at Michael's case box, then straightened up in her chair and started to clear up her desk. Papers had been strewn across it from other investigations and research she had begun before events had run out of her control and she'd been suspended from the police force. It felt good to organise something so simple and easy while the rest of the world was full of uncertainty.

"Porter!" came a booming voice from across the room, making Jane jump in her seat. "My office."

Sam smirked at her as she rose from her chair and tugged the shirt and smart jacket she'd worn to the court house to smooth out any wrinkles. Jane had been half dreading, half hoping for this moment to happen and her partner knew it. After being suspended from her job pending the result of Michael's case, Jane knew she'd be expecting a meeting with the Lieutenant sometime soon.

"You've got nothing to worry about. See you on the other side," Sam said cheerfully as he watched her slowly head towards the Lieutenant's office. As she approached the door, Jane caught a glimpse of someone flickering in and out of sight as they walked past the vertical blinds swaying across the window toward her. He was short, balding, and had a supremely irritated expression on his face. Gene.

Their eyes met as they both lingered at the entranceway. Pausing, Jane left room for Gene to exit and tried to ignore the look of blood thirsty vehemence directed her way. Though no words escaped his lips, she could tell he desperately wanted to repeat the violent sentiments he had so venomously spat at her and John earlier this morning. Even more so by the fury and aggression she could see promised in his eyes.

"Porter! I haven't got all day," exclaimed Connor from inside his small office.

"Yes Lieutenant," she replied, never breaking eye contact with the smaller man before her.

"Taylor! Don't make me come out there," he boomed again.

Gene grimaced, the expression scrunching up his already furious face, before he barged past her, deliberately hitting her arm with his shoulder, and heading out the exit of the building. Jane tried her best to brush off his childish behaviour, but she'd experienced firsthand how dangerous Gene could be when sufficiently angered. She didn't want to go through it again.

Finally, Jane headed into the sparsely decorated office, mostly filled with several bulky black filing cabinets, a large teak stained desk and a couple of framed certificates on the far wall.

"Shut the door behind you," Connor said authoritatively from behind his desk.

Closing the door, Jane took one last look at Sam across the room. He gave her a thumbs up and a goofy grin, causing Jane to smirk involuntarily, before straightening her features as she turned to face the Lieutenant.

"As you may have noticed, Gene isn't best pleased by today's verdict, and I can't honestly blame him. I hate unsolved cases," Connors stated grudgingly. "But, the trails gone cold, so what else can we do?"

The guilt Jane had felt from finally closing Michael's case resurfaced once more. The need to apologise for her behaviour and explain herself once more was like a heavy weight on her chest, making it impossible for her to breathe.

"Sir..." she began.

"Look, I know you had your reasons. But what it boils down to is that you were aiding and abetting a murder suspect. Normally, that sort of thing wouldn't stand in my precinct, but you're a good cop Jane. You wouldn't do it without proper cause and I can't spare any more detectives right now. So," Connor opened a drawer in the side of his desk, pulling out a leather rectangle and a holstered gun, "take your gun and badge and get back to work."

Jane was shocked. This was not the dress-down reaction she had been expecting from the Lieutenant. Connor made it sound so simple – you made a mistake but we need you. Yet, somehow, Jane still couldn't comprehend, after all the trouble she and John had caused, just how easy getting her badge back would be.

Almost robotically she reached out to grasp the familiar leather case holding her badge, running her thumb over the engraved lettering and raised lip of the shining metal.

"I..." she began, unsure exactly of what she wanted to say.

"You should know though," Connor continued, "what you did was serious. Most of the guys here are less than impressed with having to chase you and the Clayton kid around Manhattan last month. Eyes will be on you from now on."

The serious tone in the Lieutenant's voice focused Jane once more.

"Don't disappoint me," he finished gravely as his eyes seemed intently trying to convey that there would be no second chances this time.

Jane considered this for a moment. Now that John wasn't on the run from his Uncle or New York's finest anymore and his life seemed to be heading in a safer direction, maybe this could be a fresh start for her. Getting back to regular cases with Sam, walking the city streets, discovering clues. It was all she had wanted to do growing up, and somehow, lately, her life had spiralled so far away from that dream. Maybe she could finally return to it again.

"Thank you, Sir. I won't let you down," she promised.

The Lieutenant nodded, a rare half-smile gracing the corner of his mouth as he replied, "Alright then, get back to it Porter."

Jane returned his smile with a fuller one and backed away towards the door, when an unpleasant and unwelcome thought crossed her mind.

"Sir? Can I ask about –"

"Gene?" Connor cut in as if he knew the topic was bound to come up at some point. "He's been officially suspended pending further investigation into his involvement with John Clayton and yourself up in Hamilton County. He wasn't too happy about that as you may have noticed. Hopefully he'll take the time to cool off, but I find that highly unlikely."

Suspended. At least that was one piece of happy news she could tell John when she saw him tonight.

"Thank you, Sir," Jane repeated once more and turned back to face the door, badge and gun gripped tightly in her hand.

"Be careful Jane," the Lieutenant warned. "This is the only second chance you're gonna get."

"John!" Kathleen called into the tropical wilderness that had grown throughout the top floor of her home. The air was moist and pleasantly warm as she stepped through the double doors into the open space near the entrance. "John, I need to talk to you!"

A soft thud echoed off to her right and her nephew emerged from behind a large, leafy frond. The first few times John had leapt from a higher perch and landed before her, Kathleen had almost leapt out of her own skin. However, now that he had been living with her for a few weeks, she was feeling more accustomed to John's slightly wilder traits.

Which was another reason she thought they might struggle with the conversation she was about to begin.

"John," Kathleen smiled as John came to a stop a few feet in front of her. She noticed his shirt was ripped in several places and already stained with plant sap around his lower arms and chest. Somehow she was impressed he had stayed clean as long as he did this morning.

This morning. The trial. Richard.

Kathleen took a steadying breath.

"I saw your Uncle outside the court house earlier this morning."

Instantly, John's defences rose. A frown creased his brow and anger filled his stiff posture at the mention of the relation that had put him through so much torment even before he'd been brought to New York.

"Just before we left I saw him watching us. Now, I know that his plan to control your Greystoke shares has failed and he can't touch you at the moment, but he's a clever man. I know it won't be long before he tries something else," Kathleen said, watching her nephew warily. He seemed to be following her despite the tension radiating from his body.

"So," she continued, "I wanted to talk to you about something important. Something that will affect your future now that you aren't under any criminal charges."

"What is it?" John asked quietly.

"Inheritance," she replied.

Her nephew looked confused by the word. Of course, it was probably the first time he'd ever of heard it.

"Inheritance is money or property passed down to someone if a member of their family dies. In this case, your father and mother left you a trust fund, money, for you to have when you grew up."

"I don't need money," John responded as innocently as a child.

"I know it may not seem that way John, but in this case, delivering your inheritance could stop your Uncle from ever coming after you again."

At this, John paused, considering her words.

"How?" he asked softly.

"Richard is after your trust fund and your shares. He wants them to fund Greystoke and make even more money out of it. I should know, we've been fighting over what to do with it for years. But if we can get it to your first, he'll have no reason to bother you. Financially, at least..." she trailed off. No doubt, once they sorted out this problem, Richard was sure to cause another, especially if he insisted on rehabilitating John so clinically. What would be left of her pure, selfless nephew if he were ever exposed to Richard's 'treatments' again?

"If I have the trust fund, he can't take it. Then he'll leave us alone?" John queried, breaking down everything she had just told him.

"Yes," Kathleen smiled.

"How?" John asked once more.

"Now that is something I will have to ask my lawyer. I'm sure that now you're back, things should be much easier to deal with. I'll give him a call tonight and set up a meeting to discuss our options." Kathleen couldn't help but smile in amusement at him, "you're going to be rich John."

A faint frown marred his brow at the comment. But he nodded and began to turn back towards the foliage behind him.

"Oh, John," Kathleen called before he had gotten too far. He turned to meet her gaze patiently.

"Jane and Sam are going to be arriving soon for dinner. I thought, maybe, you'd like to change into more of your Father's old clothes? Celebrations require a bit of dressing up," she smiled, genuinely amused by the spark of excitement that flashed over his face at the mention of Detective Porter, all his earlier stress instantaneously forgotten at the sound of her name.

He nodded once more, turning and joining Kathleen as they both made their way out the double doors and towards John's parents' old room.


End file.
